His Hafizah and her Hafiz

Caliginous

Abu Hurairah (R.A) narrates that Rasullullah (S.A.W) said: Aspire for what benefits you, and seek help from Allah; and do not give up. And if an adversity befalls you, do not say if I had done this or that, it would have resulted in such and such. But say, Allah so destined and did it as he desired. For verily (the word) 'if' opens the way for the work of shaitan. 

Abdullah ibne-Umar (R.A) narrates that Prophet (S.A.W) said : When a person tells a lie, the angel moves a mile away from him due to the bad odour of what he came with. 

Safwan ibne-Sulaim Rahimahullah narrates that Rasullullah (S.A.W) was asked: Could a believer be a coward. He replied: Yes. He was asked: Could a believer be a miser?  He replied: Yes. He was asked: Could a believer be a liar? He replied: No.

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Abu Hurairah POV:

It had been almost two months already since I had last seen Safoora in the house, and her cheery demeanor had faded away along with her disappearance. The house was dim and eerily quiet now; even with dad living with me, things were still gloomy and hushed. 

Every time I ran by the kitchen or worked in there, flasbacks and nostalgia hit me hard. Her tuneful recitation blared in my ears, and I felt grevious and utterly regretful for my previous measures I took towards her. Her bubbly character and her smiles left with her to the coma, and the house itself was under a spell of serious stupor. 

It was night, the sky dark and caliginous, and staying with Safoora wasn't permitted in the hospital for the time-being, so I forced to return home. 

Sitting in the living room with dad, I took out my biology textbook and buried my nose in there. It was the best way to forget the situation. No, I couldn't even ignore my circumstances to be honest, I felt frantic. Forgetting was never an option, but I had to keep my mind busy with something for the night temporarily because sleeping was just not an alternative for me. 

Dad sat in in one of the couches leaning back and watching TV for half an hour, his eyes glued to the screen, but mind perhaps elsewhere. He was healing slowly now, patiently drowning in the memories of his past. 

He glanced at me momentarily, before turning the TV screen off and placing his entire attention on me. "Hurairah, we need to talk!" He sighed. 

Talk? 

Oh god, not that word. This was bad!

When your parents said 'talk', it always meant bad news. The red flags in my head stood up and I gave my father a forced 'what's up' look. 

"Yes?" I sputtered. 

"Was what Benyamin said last time true?" Dad asked, narrowing his eyes. "That you were being a foul guy to Safoora?"

'No lying, Abu Hurairah.' I scolded myself, before Shaytan got a better of my tongue.

"Yup," I nodded stupidly. 

"Hurairah, I'm just furious. Really furious." Dad narrowed his eyes, his voice rising louder and louder. "I expected better from you, and you had promised me that you would be a great husband, what happened to that?"

"I never promised--"

"You don't need to promise. You promised Allah, right? As soon as you accept your wife, you need to be good to her no matter what. Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W) said, If you see a bad habit of her, go past that and find another good trait." 

"I'm sorry, Dad. I already regret it." I groaned, throwing my head back. 

"You better regret every single action of yours, and when Safoora gets better, you better treat her like a queen. I treated your mother like one, and I would never regret our relationship." Dad lectured furiously. "I'm going to go talk to Benyamin, he has his mind set up on divorce, all because of you. If anything happens after she wakes up between you and her, Hurairah, daddy won't go easy on you."